Always (The Protectors Book 3) Read online

  He watched what she was doing. “I joined the Navy when I was seventeen. I thought I’d be there for the rest of my life.”

  “What happened?”

  He picked up the glue gun and looked at the dress in front of him.

  “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” Mallory said quickly. “We could talk about something else.”

  Grant didn’t like talking about the time he’d spent overseas, but if he didn’t tell her it would eat away at him more than his nightmares did.

  “I was in SEAL Team 6. I saw and did things that changed who I was. When I was discharged from the Navy, I had post-traumatic stress disorder—my first six months of civilian life were hard. Managing my family’s ranch wasn’t what I thought I’d be doing, but I wouldn’t change it now.”

  “When did you join the search and rescue team?”

  “Not long after I arrived in Bozeman.” He ran a line of glue around the neck of the dress and handed Mallory the glue gun. “I thought I could put some of the skills I learned in the military to good use.” He added beads to the dress and left it beside the one they’d finished.

  “The people you help must appreciate what you do.”

  Grant thought about Sonia—what he’d seen when they first arrived on the mountain. A ball of grief lodged in his throat and made it hard for him to speak. “We can’t help everyone, but we do our best.”

  Mallory sighed. “I’ve done it again, haven’t I?”

  “It’s not you—it’s me.”

  “I’m sorry. I forgot about your friend.”

  “She was a good person.” His voice cracked, and he blinked back tears.

  “It’s okay to be sad.”

  Grant wiped his eyes. He had no idea what Mallory would think of him now. He had flaws the size of the Grand Canyon, experiences that had left him damaged.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “No, I’ll be fine.”

  She found a box of tissues and passed them to him. “How about I glue the dresses and you stick on the beads?”

  He nodded and Mallory picked up the glue gun. “It won’t take long to finish them.”

  “It’s no problem. I’m staying for dinner, so I’ll be here for a while.”

  “Bella was hoping you’d arrive in time to see her dress—she thinks you’re amazing.”

  Grant sighed. “She’s pretty amazing herself. I can’t imagine my life without her.”

  The kitchen door opened. “How’s it going?” Rachel asked.

  “We’re getting there,” Mallory said. “Are you surviving the makeup lesson?”

  “That’s why I’m here. We need help.” Rachel looked at Grant. “Do you think you could manage on your own for fifteen minutes?”

  He took the glue gun out of Mallory’s hand. “I’ll give it my best shot.”

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Mallory said.

  Grant put the glue gun on its stand. “Don’t worry about rushing back. I’ll find John and ask him to help—he’s been hiding for long enough.”

  “Let me know when he gets here,” Rachel said with a grin. “Bella would love to see her dad with a hot glue gun in his hand.”

  Grant followed Mallory and Rachel out of the kitchen.

  Bella was sitting with two of her friends, applying blusher to her cheeks.

  He wasn’t sure John should go into the living room. Bella was growing up fast, and he couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

  ***

  Mallory’s eyes flew open. She stared at her bedroom ceiling, gasping for breath.

  She was okay.

  It was a dream.

  Nothing could hurt her.

  With a trembling hand she reached for the pen and notebook beside her bed.

  She couldn’t see what she was doing, but it didn’t matter.

  Simon’s face swam in front of her, screaming as a truck hit their car.

  The bang of metal, the explosion of glass, the smell of gasoline and exhaust and fear.

  Her tears hit the paper. She kept writing, kept remembering.

  She felt Simon’s hand in hers, heard his last words, cried as he took his last breath.

  The sound of feet running, people appearing out of nowhere.

  Being pulled out of the car, sobbing on the side of the road.

  Screaming for someone to help Simon.

  Blood. Warm, sticky blood falling down her face.

  Sirens. Lights. Firefighters.

  She took a deep breath, forced air into her lungs and slowly exhaled.

  Moonlight streamed through her window. Shadows took the place of her nightmare, and Simon returned to where he needed to be.

  Her pen fell out of her hand and she collapsed against her headboard. This nightmare had been more vivid than any of her other dreams. She felt as though she’d been thrown back in time, reliving in minute detail what had happened.

  Mallory waited for her heart rate to slow down, for her hands to stop shaking.

  When she was ready, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and found the box of tissues she’d left on the floor. She wiped her face, blew her nose, and took another shaky breath.

  Her cell phone was on the set of drawers on the far side of the room. She picked it up and groaned. It was three-thirty in the morning.

  When she’d gone to bed, she was sure she would have had a good night’s sleep. After the girls had finished practicing their makeup, she’d stayed at John and Rachel’s home for dinner.

  It was the kind of evening that reminded her of why she’d come to Bozeman. Bella kept them entertained with stories about school, Grant told them about another call the search and rescue team had gone to that morning, and Rachel wowed them with the lovely meal she’d cooked.

  Mallory rubbed her eyes. She wouldn’t get any more sleep, so she turned on the light and read her notes.

  The short, snappy sentences, brought tears to her eyes.

  When she read Simon’s last words, they whispered in her mind, wandered through other memories, and left her confused.

  Why had he told her to look at the photo beside her bed?

  ***

  Two and a half hours later, Mallory’s doorbell rang. She rushed into the entranceway and threw open the door. “I’m sorry I’m late. It will only take me a few minutes to get ready.”

  Kelly shrugged. “It’s okay. As long as we’ve finished at the gym by seven-thirty, I’ll be fine.” She walked into the living room and stopped. “What have you been doing?”

  Mallory picked up a box and threw a pile of old papers and photographs inside. “I was searching for a photo that used to be beside my bed in Orlando.”

  Kelly moved some magazines off the floor. “Did you find it?”

  “Not yet.” Mallory rushed into the kitchen and filled her water bottle.

  Kelly followed her. “It’s six o’clock in the morning. When did you start looking for the photo?”

  “At about three-thirty. I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Did you have another nightmare?”

  “It was different than my other dreams. This one was so real that I could have been in the accident again.”

  “How much do you remember?”

  “Almost everything. It was horrific—Simon was dying, there was blood everywhere.” She took a deep breath. Just thinking about the accident was enough to bring her close to tears.

  Kelly gave her a hug. “Maybe this is the breakthrough you’ve been waiting for. It might help you understand what happened.”

  “I wrote down everything.”

  “That’s good. We don’t have to go to the gym. I could stay here with you.”

  Mallory wiped her eyes. “I’d sooner go to the gym. I need to focus on something else for a while.”

  “If you change your mind once we’re there, just let me know. Where’s your gym bag?”

  “In the entranceway. I just need to add a towel and my keys.”

  “You get your keys. I’ll find a towel
.”

  Mallory ran upstairs. After spending more than two hours hunting through old boxes, she was no closer to finding the photo than when she’d started.

  “I’ve got a towel,” Kelly yelled from the ground floor.

  “I’ll be right down.”

  She rushed into the bathroom, quickly brushed her teeth, then grabbed her keys off her dresser.

  Kelly frowned as she ran downstairs. “Don’t rush. We’ve got plenty of time. Have you had anything to eat?”

  “I had a glass of orange juice and a slice of toast.”

  “At least that’s something. What’s so important about the photo?”

  Mallory pulled on her snow boots and grabbed her jacket from the entranceway. “Just before Simon died, he told me to find the photo.”

  “Was it special?”

  “Not really. It was a photo of the two of us in Fort Lauderdale. We’d gone there for a vacation about six months before he died. I’ve been trying to figure out why it was important, but I’ve got no idea.”

  “And you’ve just remembered all of this now?”

  “I know it sounds crazy. Up until a couple of months ago I couldn’t remember anything—now look at me.”

  Kelly picked up Mallory’s gym bag. “Maybe Simon wanted you to remember the good time you had on your vacation.”

  Mallory locked the front door. Kelly’s explanation would have made sense at any other time, but not for that weekend.

  They’d had a big argument about Simon’s family. His dad owned a property investment company and Simon worked from their Orlando office. His father asked him to do something, but for some reason, he refused. It caused so much trouble that he didn’t speak to his parents for weeks afterward.

  Telling her to look at the photo didn’t make sense, but then nothing about the accident made sense.

  Kelly unlocked her truck and Mallory slid inside.

  The only place she hadn’t searched for the photo was the attic. If it wasn’t there, she had no idea where it could have gone.

  ***

  Grant arrived at Sonia’s funeral service with a heavy heart. Country music played in the background while family and friends sat quietly at the front of the chapel.

  He took off his hat and focused on the pine box that held the body of his friend. Pink flowers cascaded over the edge of her casket, trying in some small way to soften the harsh reality of her death.

  John nudged him and pointed toward a row of chairs in the middle of the room.

  With his head bowed he followed his brother to where most of the search and rescue team were already seated.

  Mitch leaned toward him. “Jim and Danny couldn’t make it. How are you?”

  “I’m okay.”

  Mitch nodded. They’d been through too much not to know when one of them was working on auto-pilot.

  Grant left his hat under his chair and took a deep breath.

  Sonia’s dad helped an elderly woman down the aisle.

  He knew without being told who she was. Sonia had talked about her grandmother’s quirky sense of humor with pride. Grant didn’t imagine there would be many eighty-year-olds who would wear a pink dress and yellow shoes to a funeral.

  He clenched his jaw. Sometimes a little knowledge could be heartbreaking. Pink was Sonia’s favorite color. She was a girly-girl. If something was pink and glittery it either ended up in her apartment or she’d wear it.

  Sonia’s grandmother was paying a gentle tribute to her granddaughter and it touched him in a way that brought tears to his eyes.

  As the music changed his gaze roamed around the chapel. Most of the people he recognized, some he didn’t. Regardless of who they were or where they’d come from, they were here to pay their respects to a woman who had made a difference in their lives.

  A minister walked to the front of the chapel and the service began.

  As poems were recited and stories shared, Grant thought about the time he’d spent with Sonia.

  She had never judged him. Even when living with PTSD had nearly crippled him, she’d been his voice of reason, a calm refuge in the center of a raging tornado.

  He kept his gaze on the floor when pictures of her life appeared on the far wall.

  The sound of people crying and the songs Sonia’s family had chosen wrapped around him, cloaking him in a blanket of grief.

  His brother’s hand rested on his, anchoring him to the here and now and not what could have been.

  When the last song had been sung, Sonia’s family gathered around her casket, carrying it out of the chapel in a slow, silent, procession.

  Bright yellow shoes stopped in the aisle beside his brother.

  Grant looked up and into the eyes of Sonia’s grandmother.

  She introduced herself to the men beside him, grief etched in every line on her face. “My son told me you brought Sonia home. Thank you.”

  Grant didn’t know what to say, so he did what Sonia would have wanted him to do. He moved into the aisle and opened his arms and heart to the woman who had lost so much.

  Sonia’s grandmother hugged him tight. When she stepped away, there was a strength in her gaze that reminded him of her granddaughter.

  Sonia’s brother stepped forward and shook his hand. “Thank you.” He held onto his grandmother’s arm and led her down the aisle, and into the next part of the day.

  After the people in front of them had left, Grant and John slowly made their way out of the chapel.

  While they were waiting in the foyer, Mitch tapped Grant on the shoulder. “Are you staying for a drink and something to eat?”

  Grant shook his head. “Would you mind if I didn’t?”

  “Go. We won’t be here for long, either.”

  He hugged Mitch. “Thanks.”

  “We did what we could. Remember that.”

  Grant nodded. “I’ll see you at training next week.”

  “If we’re lucky it will be next week, but it could be sooner. The Bridger and Gallatin Ranges are on high avalanche alert.”

  He nodded and followed his brother outside. Like Mitch, he’d checked the avalanche advisory notice and it wasn’t good. Skiers and snowmobile riders would be out in force over the weekend, making the most of the snow that had fallen over the last few days.

  All it took was one wrong move, one weak slab of snow and an avalanche could be triggered. If that happened, no one would be safe.

  He pulled on his hat and ignored the freezing temperature. The mountains around Bozeman might look harmless, but even for experienced skiers like Sonia, they could be deadly.

  John kept walking until they stopped beside his truck. “Do you want to come back to my office for a cup of coffee?”

  Grant shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll head home.”

  “Will you be all right?”

  “I will if I keep busy. It helps.”

  “Call me if you need me.” John gave him a hug and climbed into his truck. “I’ll be home by five if you want to come for dinner.”

  “Thanks. I’ll let you know if I’ll be there.”

  “Make sure you call anyway.”

  His brother drove away, leaving Grant staring down the road after him.

  He pulled the collar of his jacket high and walked toward his truck. His ranch hands would be fixing a windbreak that had come down overnight. He’d go home, see if they needed a hand, then spend the rest of the day in the barn, working on his motorbike.

  He was glad he’d parked away from the chapel. The walk to his truck gave him time to think, time to breathe. Before he crossed the road, he glanced back at the chapel.

  With tears in his eyes, he said a final goodbye to his friend.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Mallory smiled as Mrs. Redfern handed her a plate of chocolate chip cookies. Working in the hospital had some great benefits and meeting Virginia Redfern had been one of them.

  “You don’t need to bring me cookies each time I see you.”

  “Nonsense. You dese
rve a little treat after putting up with my old joints. Some days I’m so sore that I don’t think I’ll be able to walk normally again.”

  “That’s what you get for falling off a ladder. Next time, remember to call your son—he’s happy to change your light bulbs for you.”

  “I don’t want to annoy him for such a little thing.”

  Mallory held the door open for her favorite patient. “I think he secretly enjoys helping you. It gets him away from his puppies.”

  “You could be right,” Mrs. Redfern whispered. “They’re still in the potty training stage. They keep him awake at night.”

  Mrs. Redfern’s fifty-year-old son met them in the waiting room. “Are you ready to go home, mom?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Mallory handed Mrs. Redfern her exercise chart. “Keep doing your stretches. I’ll see you next Friday at the same time.”

  With a little wave of her hand, Virginia left the clinic.

  “She seemed happy.”

  Mallory turned around. Her smile disappeared when she saw Grant’s face. The dark circles under his eyes told her he hadn’t been sleeping.

  “What’s happened?”

  He looked around her empty waiting room. “I didn’t scare everyone away if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “Very funny,” she muttered. “Mrs. Redfern was my last patient. Sit down.”

  “I need to stretch my legs. I’ve been sitting for too long.”

  Mallory put her hand on his forehead. “You’re as cold as a block of ice. Where have you been?”

  “Outside.”

  She glanced through the waiting room window and frowned. “Unless you’ve got four legs and say moo, it’s too cold to be outside. The snow’s falling so hard that it’s almost a blizzard.”

  Grant gave a dry laugh, but at least he sat down. “You’re not used to our weather. This is nothing for Montana.”

  “So says the man who feels like a frozen popsicle. Wait here.” She walked into the staff area, left the cookies on the table, and poured him a cup of coffee.

  “One cream, two sugars.”